Anger Management
by DJ5
Summary: William ‘Spike’ Giles is a workaholic boss. He spends 24 hours a day in his office, working non-stop. But there is one thing every employee of his fear from him - his uncontrollable anger. See Prologue for further summary.
1. Prologue

(A/N: Thanks to Sheila for betaing it for me. Luv ya, sweetie! Mwahhh =D )

Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: If you are a spuffy or an obsessed BtVS fan like me, you should have known whom the characters belong to. What? You don't know? Shame on you! LOL Why, they belong to me of course. 'Cept the _me_ here is supposed to be in capital letters as in ME. They also belong to the I-love-to-hate-you-but-I-can't-because-you-have-introduced-Spike-to-me Joss Whedon. There I've said it. Happy now, Joss?!?    
  
Summary: William 'Spike' Giles is a workaholic boss. He spends 24 hours a day in his office, working non-stop. But there is one thing every employee of his fear from him - his uncontrollable anger. Whenever he doesn't see something that fit in his eyes, he will fix it by firing his employees no matter how long and dedicated they have been in the company. Hence, no one wants to mess with him when he's at the peak of his anger. Except his father, Rupert Giles. And nobody can tame him, except his stepmother, Drusilla. After firing a good amount of the oldest employees in the Giles Company, his father finally put a rest on it by giving him an ultimatum. Given a month, Spike needs to learn how to control his anger or he won't be given the thing he has every right and worked hard for - his inheritance. 

Inspired _very_ vaguely by the movie, 'Anger Management'.  
  
  
**Prologue:**  
  
_Bang. Slam._  
  
Everyone froze at their activity. All eyes snapped to the double doors, hearts racing, anticipating a certain person who was about to burst inside the office any second.   
  
_Bam._  
  
There he was. Palms appearing to push the door harshly as the peroxide head came into view. Everyone stood immediately, fidgeting on their feet and eyeing him as he stomped his boots purposely to other double doors that led to his private office. Anyone who'd never met him would have laughed at his employees' reaction, all holding their breaths, waiting for him to get inside his bureau.   
  
The man, clad in black ignored his employees' nervous stares as they followed his every step. He threw one or two glances at random, and those who met his annoyed gaze immediately looked down on their feet, avoiding his eyes right away. He ran a hand through his curly hair in frustration as he reached his secretary's desk.   
  
"Get Ethan Rayne for me." He ordered the brunette behind the desk with a pointing finger.  
  
"I-Immediately, sir." The skinny girl in gray suit answered him, fumbling through her address book at once. He strode inside the large office, leaving all of his employees with sighs of relief. But soon, they all glanced at one another, gasping as they recognized the name their boss mentioned just seconds ago.   
  
_Uh-oh…First victim for today._   
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Ethan Rayne took a deep breath; readying himself for whatever unavoidable episode he was about to face. He was always good at facing his boss, giving him a concern look and promises usually got him out of any troubles he was in. Well, at least it worked for his older boss. But it's different with his younger one. This young man always had eyes on him. In fact, he had eyes on every employee of his, making them learn not to make a fool out of him.   
  
The brunette fifty-year old man stood in front of the double mahogany doors, took another long breath before turning his head to the secretary. "What were his words exactly, Fred?" 

The young woman in question adjusted her glasses before answering, "Well, h-he said, 'Get Ethan Rayne for me.' That's all."   
  
He sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. Straightening his form again, he knocked firmly on the door and a clear British voice invited him to come inside. Pulling his concern and serious look, he let himself in, calming a little as a nonchalant face greeted him. "Good Morning Mr. Giles. You needed to see me?"

The young man behind the desk leaned back against the leather chair, his piercing blue eyes were calm but Ethan could feel the danger and authority behind them. He opened his mouth and spoke in an even tone. "You're fired."  
  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
"Evenin', Maria." The bleached twenty-five year old man greeted with a nod as he peeled his duster off and handed to the old lady.  
  
"Good evening, Master William. Master Giles would like to see you as soon as possible." 

Spike immediately groaned and rolled his eyes. Mumbling a thank you, he strode towards his father's office fully aware of what the older Giles wanted to discuss with him…or yelled at him rather.   
  
Without bothering to knock, he turned the knob and entered the room. His eyes immediately came across the agitated form of his father pacing around in front of his large desk that instantly stopped the moment he saw him.

"What in the bloody hell were you thinking, William?" His fists clenched into a ball, knuckles turning white as he glared sharply at his son. Spike only rolled his eyes. Ignoring his father's question, he walked towards the maroon leather couch and kissed his stepmother's cheek in greeting.   
  
"Evening, mother." He smiled at the raven-haired woman.   
  
The lady in a white long dress caressed her stepson's cheek lovingly as she flashed him a genuine yet sympathetic smile for the upcoming argument between him and her husband.   
  
Rupert Giles lost his patience. "Bloody hell, William! Answer my question!" He demanded, slamming his fist onto the table.

"Rupert, it's not necessary to yell at your son like that." His second wife warned him with a glint of anger in her eyes.

"Yes, there is, Drusilla dear. He has fired yet another employee of mine AND this time he fired Ethan Rayne, one of my best accountants!" He gritted his teeth and shot Spike a deadly glare.

"Oh, s'that so, father?" Spike straightened and dared the older Giles to make eye contact.   
  
"What do you mean is that so? Ethan called me this afternoon and-"  
  
"What I meant was…is that, Ethan is one of your best accountants?" The younger man interjected. "I must admit he is really good that you let him fool you with his serious look and bright promises."

"Are you saying that I'm-" 

"No, I'm not calling you anything. I'm just telling you how cunning he is, but NO, you won't listen to me, will ya?" Spike interrupted once again, throwing his arms in exasperation.  
  
"Well, how will I listen to you if all you do is firing every employee of mine everyday without any good reason?" 

"Because they are useless and slow! Our company is one of the biggest in this country, father, and we do not need people that cannot be reliable. Hell, I work more hours and harder than them but you never appreciate it!" He clenched his jaw; chiselled cheekbones drew out as he tried to contain his anger.   
  
Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them with a handkerchief. There was silence for a moment, fleetingly disrupted by the piercing noise of his glasses being rubbed hard with a piece of fabric. Placing his glasses back, the older man looked up to his son and spoke, "You cannot do this anymore, William."

"Well, if you'd have chosen good and hardworking employees, maybe I won't need to-"  
  
"No. You cannot work in my company any longer." He cut him off. Spike crunched his brows in incredulity, shaking his head at his father's statement.   
"I worked hard for it, father." He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. "You made me run the company and I have all the rights to earn it!"

"Not until I die, my son. Yes, you are the CEO of Giles' enterprise right now, but you can only inherit the company AFTER I pass away."   
  
Spike clenched and unclenched his fists, his teeth gritted painfully; he looked around the entire room and finally drove his fist into the wall next to the door. "Dammit, father! You cannot do this to me. What have I done to make you take away the one thing I have purpose in life for?" He snapped his head to look at his father again, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. Drusilla instantaneously ran to him and took his bloodied fist in her hand.  
  
"William…" She gasped at his bleeding knuckles, but Spike ignored her.  
  
"Your anger, that's what! YOU cannot control your anger and you let it rule every decision for every little problem you have. It's not good for the company, William. No matter how hard you work, it's still not good enough." Giles' blue eyes stared into the same colored orbs of his son's.   
  
Spike squeezed his eyes tightly before meeting his father's eyes again. He could not risk losing the only thing he had put his effort and energy for. No, he wouldn't allow that to happen. The company was rightfully his and he would do anything to forbid his father to take it away from him.   
  
"Fine. What do you want me to do to get it back?" Before Giles could answer his question, Drusilla interceded, putting a soothing hand on Spike's shoulder.

"I think it's time for another session of therapy, don't you think so, dear?" Spike looked down to his smiling stepmother.   
  
He sighed in surrender at the stern look Drusilla gave him and conceded, "Right. Another session for William Giles coming up." 


	2. Chapter 1: Another Session

**Chapter 1: Another Session**  
  


  
Lilah Morgan stifled a yawn behind the back of her hand. Today should have been her day off. The day where she was supposed to stay at home, eating diet yogurt while watching The Practice or any shows that involved devious lawyers nailing stupid people and sending them to jail for life. But NO! She's now stuck in the large office of William Giles, listening to his rants about how unfair his father had been and how hard he worked all these past few years. Geez, the man seriously needed a holiday. A _very_ long holiday by all means. 

  
She rolled her eyes heavenwards. Why did she decide to be a therapist anyway? She could have been a lawyer; working for an evil law firm and devoting herself to it so much she's willing to trade her soul. And that would just be another dream. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Spike…" Her client put a halt on his pacing, snapping his head to her. "You know what you need?"   
  
Spike rolled his eyes as he sat on the leather couch. "Well, you're the therapist, why don't you tell me."

"You need a holiday. A _very_ long holiday." Lilah shot him a stern look. He snorted.  
  
"Yeah, that's _really_ what I need right now."

"I mean it, Spike. Look at you, all you do is rant about how upset you are with your father, how unfair he is, while the fact is, he _is_ right." He looked taken aback. 

"What?!? Hey, you're supposed to sympathize with me!" She only rolled her eyes.  
  
"I am not one of your minions, Spike. I'm your therapist and as a client, you should do what I tell you unless if you want to lose your position in your father's company." 

Spike lowered his head for a while. He didn't need to be reminded what he was about to lose. Sighing, he looked up to her. "Where are you suggesting then?" Lilah smiled, pleased that her client followed her order for the first time. 

"You need to go somewhere far from here. Out of country, out of continent, just somewhere that won't remind you of work." 

"And that would be…?" Spike was growing impatient.  
  
"Sunnydale." She answered simply. 

The man in front of her drew his brows into a frown. He had travelled to countless places and had heard of every town in the world. But Sunnydale? He wasn't sure he wanted to go there. Bet it was always sunny…and hot like hell! Yeah, that's it! It must be the mouth of hell. He shook his head at that crazy thought.  
  
"Where in the sodding hell is that?"

"It's a small town, near Los Angeles. My friend, Lindsey lives there." He watched her skeptically.   
  
"Huh. S'that right? And why are you recommending it?"   
  
"Because it's quite, and peaceful. Just what you need at the moment." Spike stood up immediately, pacing frantically around the room.

 "You know I don't like quite places. They drive me nuts and they're depressing! No activities, no loud noises, and no-" A sudden ringing of her cell phone cut his ramble off. Lilah flashed him an apologetic smile before answering it. "I need a drink." He muttered, striding to the mini bar for a much needed whiskey. 

After guzzling two glasses, he came back to her. "Spike, your father wants to talk to you." Lilah said, handing her cell phone to him.  
  
"Wha'? Now he stalks every person I speak to?" He was irate.   
  
"Just answer it, will ya?" 

He eyed the cell phone as if it would bite his head off before grabbing it harshly. "What you need, father?" Silence. "A month?! Has Lilah told you what kind of place it was? It's a bloody small town, father. I can barely stay there for a day, let alone a month! How the hell would I do that?" He let out a heavy sigh as he listened to yet another Giles' speech. Shooting daggers at his therapist, he answered his father with gritted teeth. "Fine. I'll give it a try, but don't expect me to enjoy my so-called holiday even for a day!" He closed the cell phone and slammed it across the wall, enraged.   
  
Lilah stood up with a shock. "Hey, that's my mobile you just threw!" She yelled in irritation.  
  
"Oh bugger off! Put it in my bill and you'll get a new shiny one in no time." He ran a shaky hand through his curls, attempting to calm himself. God, his father was impossible. How could he suggest him to stay in a town he barely knew for a month and expect him back with a very much-controlled anger?  
  
The therapist sat back, crossing her legs as well as her arms over her chest. "So what did he tell you?" Spike snorted.

"Like you haven't known already. I'm sent to Sunnyhell for a month and expected to be a calmer person when I get back."

"Well, ain't that neat?" She put on a synthetic smile and he scowled in return.  

_to be continued._

(A/N: Sorry, chap 1 is really short. The next chap will be longer and posted soon ;) )


	3. Chapter 2: Welcome to Sunnydale

**Chapter 2: Welcome to Sunnydale**  
  
  
Spike dropped his luggage after he took in the whole of Sunnydale airport. "What the hell is this? A warehouse? Knew I would hate this place." He scowled to himself and swung around when he felt someone tapped him on the shoulder.   
  
"Mr. William Giles, I presume?" A brunette man in a suit asked him with a smile.   
  
"Yeah, that's me. Who the hell are you?"   
  
"I'm Lindsey McDonald, Lilah Morgan's friend. I'm sent here to drive you to your new place and give you a small tour, if you like."  
  
"Oh, alright then. Think the tour can wait though, I just need to go to sleep." 

Lindsey chuckled. "I can understand that. The long flight must be wearing you out." 

Spike shrugged and together they collected his luggage and walked out of the airport. "So where's the limo?" 

"Uhh, if memory serves…Mr. Giles didn't order a limo for you." 

Spike rolled his eyes heavenward, clenching his jaw. "I knew coming to this place was a bad idea," he mumbled. The man next to him only flashed him a sympathetic smile.   
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
He dropped his baggage in shock for the second time as soon as he saw his pad. "What. The. Hell. Is. This?" 

Lindsey stepped back slightly. "It's…an apartment, your apartment. Brand new, actually." He answered thoughtfully. Spike looked around the space, askance.   
  
There was a bathroom on his right and a staircase that led to the second floor next to it. He walked into the living room, which was right in the middle. Two three-seated futons were placed on each side of a coffee table and a TV set on the corner, near a glass wall that separates the room from the balcony.   
  
Spike looked up to the second landing, examining the exposed railings that people could jump over instead of descending the staircase - eyeing the open space with stunned curiosity before it all sunk in. An open bedroom? An open bedroom?!? People could easily see what he'd be doing in that room just by simply looking up!   
  
He shot the brunette a deadly glare. "This is brand new, you say? Has the architect lost his mind? People can see me butt naked in that room!" He pointed at the open space that was to become his bedroom, separated by a wall near the staircase with rows of railings painted in black. "And look at this…" He gestured at the couches. "They're not leather! Where the hell did you get these?" 

If Lindsey didn't know who he was, he'd already made a smart retort at that. "Well, you see, I was given a short notice to find you an apartment and this was the only one available at the moment." 

Spike slumped in the couch, holding his head with his hands, tempted to tear his hair out; instead, he let out a bitter laugh at the irony of it all. "Oh, this is just bloody great. Really fuckin' great! Why doesn't he just KILL me?!" He yelled as he looked up to the ceiling.   
  
Lindsey fidgeted on his feet. Lilah had told him that the younger Giles was one angry man, but she never mentioned that he was insane, too. 

"Uh, I think I should leave you now to get some rest." The brunette said in a gentle voice, afraid to infuriate him further. Spike just waved his hand signalling him to go. Lindsey immediately scurried off and closed the door with a soft click.   
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
"I've told you to stop calling me, Riley. God, you have problem understanding that sentence, don't you?" Buffy rolled her eyes as she stomped her heels on the sidewalk, one hand holding her cell phone inches away from her ear, sickened to hear another barrage of his nauseating pleas. Once he stopped rambling, she answered him in an irate voice and said, "Goodbye, Riley. And STOP calling me!" She practically yelled and slammed the phone close with disgust.   
  
"Oof! I'm sorry." She muttered almost instantly when she bumped on someone.   
  
"Watch where you're goin', you silly bint!" Buffy swung her head at the owner of the angry voice. 

"Well, if you use your eyes properly, maybe you could've avoided my way!" She snapped, enraged.

Spike narrowed his eyes at the young woman. God, he doesn't need this to start his second day here. "Do you even know who I am?" He drawled, then immediately regretted his outburst as he took in her appearance - blonde, stylish clothes, high heels…and brainless. His silent musings were cut off, replaced with wariness when he heard her mocking response.

"As a matter of fact, I do. You're that snotty chairman of Giles Enterprise who fired my friend with your lame-ass excuse of a reason!"   
  
"Your friend? You need to be specific 'ere, luv, coz I've fired so many useless employees of mine." 

Buffy scoffed. "Of course. Maybe you don't remember her, but here's the clue; long blonde hair in her early 20's, blue eyes and really fragile. Not that it would remind you but her name was Tara MacClay."  
  
Spike frowned, trying to remember the particular girl she had described. "Oh, that girl!" He chuckled sardonically, and tilted his head. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, pet, but we play hard in London. We don't like wasting our time for such a dawdling girl like her." 

Buffy gasped in disbelief and rage at his statement. "God, I've never met such a cold-hearted person like you!" 

"Well then, I'm honored to be the first one you knew." A synthetic smile plastered on his handsome features as the petite blonde opened and closed her mouth twice before brushing past him brusquely, stomping her heels away in a huff.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
_Fuck!_  
  
He kicked an imaginary object as he expressed his rage at the unfairness that had been happening to him. He patted his jeans for cigarettes; finding them, he lit one as he strode towards the balcony. He gripped the metal railing and lowered his head. God, he's so damn bored! How the hell is he going to spend another 28 days in a small quite town like this and live in an apartment that was smaller than his old room?  
  
"Sod it all!! And fuck you, father! I don't need this shit!" He screamed at the top of his lungs and was soon answered by an incensed voice from below.

"Hey, shut up! It's 3 damn o'clock in the morning and people are trying to sleep here!" Spike only rolled his eyes, bringing the cig to his mouth. 

Dammit! He couldn't do this. It's just too frustrating. He needed to work, something to do rather than sit and watch the telly. Walking back inside, he grabbed the wireless phone and dialled a number. A female voice came through the other end of the line.

"I can't do this, Lilah." He said, pacing the living room restlessly.   
  
"Try, Spike. It'll be good for you."  
  
"Good?!?" He gave an ironic laugh. "What good can it come from all of this? _I need to work_, Lilah." He _was_ desperate for work. "I can't just sit here doin' nothing. And by the way, my father _really_ has a good sense of humor. He gave me this sodding apartment where people can see me prancing around my room in all my naked glory." He frowned when he heard a suppressed chuckle from the other end.

"I'm sure he didn't mean that. Oh, whom am I kidding? He did mean it and it's a good one, too." 

"Lilah…" Spike snarled, his tone low and dangerous.   
  
"Okay, fine. Here's my suggestion…" He immediately rolled his eyes.  
  
"Oh, great! Another suggestion."  
  
"Do you want to survive or not?" At a beat of silence, Lilah continued. "Call your friends and ask them to come for a visit." Another silence. "Good, now that you understand…I have another appointment in fifteen minutes. Good luck, Spike." She cut the line off before Spike could say anything.   
  
He plopped back into the couch with a sigh. Maybe having his friends wouldn't be such a bad idea. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he picked the phone again and pressed a series of digits by heart and waited impatiently for the other line to be picked up. As he waited, he unfolded himself, lit another cigarette and took a much-needed drag.   
  
_First ring…second ring._   
  
A professional British voice greeted him. "Hello, this is Wyndam-Price residence. How may I-?"

"Yeah, yeah...cut the crap, Wes! I need you to come to Sunnydale in 24 hours." Spike cut him off wryly. He listened to some typing noises and frowned at the brief silent treatment his employee was giving him as he paced around again. "Well, don't just sit there! Start organizing everything!" He barked impatiently at the phone.   
  
Wes only rolled his eyes. Sighing, he said, "This is a small town near Los Angeles, correct? And if I'm not mistaken, you currently live in unit 20, 588 Crawford St.?"  
  
Spike froze on his feet, taken aback. The only people who knew his whereabouts at the moment were his therapist, father and stepmother. "How did y-? Oh, never mind." Wesley might not know as many places as he did, but with his technological skills, he could easily find every single person in the sodding universe. "Just start packing and arrange your departure. One more thing, if anybody ask you, tell 'em you're going on a job vacation."   
  
Words were passed quickly in London and if he's not careful, the press would eat it up in no time once they knew of his situation. Spike was sure as hell did not want that. This could easily put his family to shame and the respect that he'd worked hard for would possibly go down the drain - and people would be laughing at him instead. He didn't need that, especially not from Travers Co.   
  
Meanwhile, a small smile crept across Wesley's face at the realization of what his boss had just said. _Vacation, eh? So, that means no paperwork, no computers or research needed._ Exactly what he needed right now. His smile soon crumpled and he glared at the phone when he heard his boss said, "Oh, and don't forget to bring your highly sophisticated laptop with you."   
  
_Click._  
  
Spike started dialling another number again. This time, the phone rang unattended for a few seconds making him groan in exasperation. "Pick up the bloody phone, you pillock!"  
  
A groggy and irritated voice was finally heard from the receiver. "WHAT?!? Don't you know I'm still sleeping here?!"

"For fuck's sake, Peaches, it's eleven o'clock over there and you should've been at work by now!" Spike roared at his cousin. 

Angel only groaned. "I'm taking a day off today."  
  
"Who said you could get a day off? I'm your boss, remember?"

"Oh come on, gimme a break here. Where the hell are you anyway?" Angel changed the subject as Spike heaved a sigh, trying hard to contain his frustration.  
  
"Book a ticket to Sunnydale for the next flight you can get, or just ask Wesley to do that for you. You both need to be here in 24 hours." He paused for a beat. "Oh, and don't forget to bring those hair gels you seem to like so much. M'afraid you can't get 'em here."   
  
_Click._   
  
He threw the wireless phone onto the couch and collapsed next to it, lighting another cigarette.


	4. Chapter 3: The Things One Has to Do

**Chapter 3: The Things One Has to Do**  
  


  
He growled at the constant, loud knocking on the front door. _Someone's having a death wish_, he thought. "Will you bloody hang on? It's still 8 o'clock, you wanker!" 

Spike roared as he stomped his bare feet towards the door. Ripping it open, he saw two brunette men standing with luggage next to them. The bigger man was smirking, hands shoved into his duster pockets while the other one with a slight visible beard gave him a brief smile while retrieving their baggage from the floor.  
  
"My boy…ain't ya happy to see your cousin?" Angel said, still smirking. Spike only rolled his eyes before walking back into the living room, leaving the other men to follow. Angel spread his arms as he pulled a mocking pout at his cousin's retreating form. "What? No hug? Aww, I'm deeply hurt, Spike."

"Shut up, peaches! There's only one empty room upstairs, so you two have to decide who's going to take the couch." Both brunettes pointed each other instantly as they spoke in unison.

"You take the couch."  
  
"You take the couch." 

Spike shook his head. Amazed how his employees could be so childish at times, and yet able to do some serious work handed to them. Although, the same quality rarely applies to his capricious cousin, Angel. "I don't care who's going to sleep where, as long as I don't need to give up my bed." He strolled to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.   
  
Wesley and Angel dropped their baggage and looked around the entire apartment. Whistling, Angel went to the terrace, pleased to have the beach for the view. He smirked at sight of numerous ladies in bikinis, lying on their chests while reading some women's magazine. "Damn, you could've called me sooner, Spike. This apartment's view is _beautiful_." He yelled over his shoulder, shaking his head in appreciation. 

Spike could only snort in derision at his overt display of ogling the mass of women sunbathing in front of his terrace. "You're more than welcomed to sleep in the balcony if you like. You can have the view 24/7 all to yourself."   
  
Inside, Wesley looked up to the second landing, his face showing astonishment at the open bedroom. "Well, this place is certainly…interesting." He muttered. 

Spike chuckled, patting Wesley on the back. "I'm gonna take a shower and go out to get some fags. You two can rest. There's food in the fridge if you're hungry. You need anything else?" 

Wesley shook his head. "No, I'll be fine." 

Spike nodded before he yelled to his cousin. "Angel, you need anything while I'm out?"   
  
"Yeah! Bring me those fine ladies on your way back!" The brunette shouted back, pointing a finger to the beach, eyes still fixed on the women in revealing bikinis. Spike rolled his eyes and started for the bathroom while mumbling something about his cousin's playboy persona.   
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Buffy quickened her pace, trying not to trip on her 3-inch high heels. _Stupid high heels,_ she cursed silently.

"Come on, Buffy. Can we just talk for one minute?" The huge man behind her begged while trying to catch up with her.   
  
"No! Talk time is over, Riley. The last time I wanted to talk, your tongue was too busy fucking that bitch, Harmony." She spat over her shoulder, the annoyance on her features turned into disgust and rage.   
  
"It wasn't what it looked like…" Buffy snorted unladylike. The nerve of this guy! He had been caught plain and simple, yet he still had the guts to deny it? 

"What, your mouth suddenly tripped over her pussy? I don't think so, Riley." She snapped over her shoulder again and threw him another deadly glare while moving in a hasty pace, heels clacking against the sidewalk. 

Riley shook his head in frustration. "Please, baby. I still love you, you know that." He pleaded.

"Well, I don't! So you can go back to that bimbo and leave me the hell- oof! So-" Buffy was about to apologize when she finally acknowledged the person she ran into - again. The man in front of her sighed in exasperation, but was instantly surprised the moment he saw a smile spreading over her lovely face."Hey, baby. Are you about to pick me up? Aww, ain'tcha a sweetie?" She looped her arm into his with a sickening sweet smile plastered on her features. Spike only arched a scarred brow at her action, confusion marring his visage. 

"What?"   
  
Buffy quickly turned her head to look at her ex-boyfriend and chimed in, completely ignoring Spike's questioning stare. "Oh, sorry Riley...I forgot to mention my new honey. I don't believe you've met him before. This is..." She trailed off.   
  
_Shit, I forgot his name. I could've sworn Tara has mentioned it before. 'I've just got fired by that bastard of Giles, Will-' AHA!_   
  
"…William. William Giles." She finished triumphantly, smug washed over her face. Riley didn't look convinced. He scrutinized the blond couple as Buffy pressed her body closer to Spike, her chin lifted high. Spike, on the other hand, looked down at the girl next to him with a perplexed look.  
  
_What is this chit up to?_ He shifted his eyes, glancing at the man in front of him.   
  
"Pfft! Nice try, Buffy." Riley retorted, eyeing the other man with repulsion. Buffy widened her eyes in surprise, clearly challenged at his remark.

"Oh, you don't believe me? Fine, I'll give ya proof."   
  
Before the men could respond, she brought her hands to Spike's face, forcing him to bend down and capturing his mouth. Both men were stunned and widened their eyes, though Spike's eyes soon fluttered closed at the feel of Buffy's soft lips nibbling his lower lip. His arms unconsciously snaked around her small waist, bringing her closer as he deepened the kiss.   
  
Riley clenched and unclenched his fists, his face turning red and shoulders becoming rigid with rage. He never expected his once sweet Buffy could pull such a stunt, kissing a complete stranger before his eyes. Giving one last disdainful look at the embracing couple, he swung around and marched away furiously.  
  
Sensing the absence of her ex-boyfriend's company, she abruptly broke the kiss and drew away from Spike, causing him to stare at her dazedly. "Ha! Serves him right!" She exclaimed jubilantly. She started to walk off when a strong hand seized her wrist, forcing her to spin around facing the owner. Buffy stared down at the hand capturing her wrists before looking up at the man she kissed a moment ago.   
  
"Care to explain what the bleedin' hell was that all 'bout?" Spike quirked his brow, tilting his head slightly as he searched her eyes for answer. 

She only rolled her eyes and sighed. "It's just an act, none of your business really." She waved her hand, telling him to let the matter go. The bleached man's eyes widened with incredulity.

"Excuse me? I think I have a right to say something since I am the victim here!" He pointed at his own chest as he stared down at the petite blonde. 

Buffy snorted. "What are you, twelve? Please…don't tell me those kind of stunt never happened in your motherland?" She jeered and pushed him off, trying to ignore her still tingling lips as she sauntered away.

Spike could only stare at her retreating form, dumbfounded. What the hell was that all about? One minute she was kissing him and the next she's brushing him off. Shaking his head in confusion, he cursed under his breath. "Bitch!"

_to be continued._

(A/N: Sorry for getting the chaps so slow. My beta has been busy lately and am going to busy for the next two weeks. I've sent the next two chaps of Soulmate to her a few days ago. Just hope that she can send me back quickly. *crosses fingers*)


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